


Tony

by CrimsonFirebreeze



Series: The Roleplay Files [1]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coping, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonFirebreeze/pseuds/CrimsonFirebreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark has PTSD and he is not coping with it well at all. Nightmares and anxiety attacks plague him day and night and now he's hurt someone he loves. But Tony isn't as alone as he feels. He has an ally in this, if only he would open himself up to the support he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this immediately after seeing Iron Man 3 and based it on something that happened in a Roleplay I was doing with a couple friends. I with held it until recently because it was met with really bad criticism from my partner who plays as Tony in our RPs and my brother and it hurt when I had been so proud of it. I literally refused to look at it until a couple weeks ago. 
> 
> So here it is. 
> 
> Oh, and just so we're clear, Alex is the name of Tony's fiance because we play with the whole Pepper marrying Happy storyline.

“Hey, can’t sleep,” Samantha asked softly, stepping into the garage workspace. Tony glanced up only momentarily from the gauntlet he was tinkering with on his work table. She pulled up a stool and sat down next to him. She knew it was risky doing so, as she could never tell when he actually wanted to be alone but he didn’t seem to notice. She nudged his arm, offering him the apple in her hand.

 

“You stay at my house and offer me my own food,” he said, his tone colored with sarcasm. “There’s an idea.”

 

“Just trying to be polite, since it is _your_ food,” she replied, shrugging and unphased. “Besides, it was the last one and I didn’t want to eat it before-”

 

“Is there a reason you’re here,” he demanded with a sigh. Those dark brown eyes were fixed on her, cold.

 

She struggled to find the words to answer him. His icy demeanor had caught her off guard, though it shouldn’t have. She knew he’d hardly slept in days and that tonight’s battle with his nightmares had driven him from his bed again, leaving his fiance with a black eye and a split eyebrow. She looked away first and sighed softly as he returned his attention to the hardware, dismissing her.

 

“Tony... I can help,” she said softly.

 

“I don’t need help,” he snapped. “What i need is peace and quiet.”

 

“You’re not the only one dealing with this. These panic attacks? The nightmares? Tony, it’s all-”

 

“Can you seriously not right now? I’ve said it before. I’m not discussing this. And if you can’t leave it alone, then you can get the hell out of my house.”

 

“I can help. PTSD can be managed. It can be-”

 

Tony slammed his fist down on the workbench, cutting her off again and causing her to jump. His breathing was hard, ragged almost, and guilt tightened in her chest. She’d upset him. “I don’t have PTSD.”

 

“Tony, listen..”

 

“No, you listen! I don’t need some whack job shrink poking around inside my head and telling me I’m fucked up. I don’t need to be told that I need meds to make it better and I don’t need someone to fix me. I need you to not be in my face about this. I need to be able to keep Alex safe and I can’t do that if I’m feeling sorry for myself. I need everyone to just leave me alone about it and let me work on her suit so that I can-”

 

“So that you can have control over the situation,” Sam volunteered, eliciting a glare from him. “Yes, Tony, _I know_. I get it. You need to have control over this. You need to control that nothing bad will ever happen to her again, that the suits are perfect, that the world isn’t crumbling around you every five minutes. _I get that_ , Tony. And I also get that all of this _feeling_ is new and scary and that you are trying to make it a palpable and rational problem. But emotions aren’t rational and they’re not physical and you’re not going to solve a damn thing by being this stubborn. Take the help that’s offered.”

 

“And what exactly do you know of it all,” he demanded. “Can you tell me that you know what it was like being where I have been? You cannot look at any of that footage and tell me that _sympathy_ gives you any insight into it. Don’t tell me how I   _feel_ , because outside of a burning desire to protect what I can’t live without, I don’t.”

 

“But you do, Tony. Or you wouldn’t be Iron Man. These suits would not exist. Your company would still be profiting from warfare. But it isn’t, because Tony Stark _felt_ something and made a change,” she said firmly, almost passionately. “No, I can’t look at the footage and say that I know what it’s like to make the decision you did or what you went through in the middle east. But I do understand the aftermath. I understand sleepless nights, nightmares so real that every sense is completely overloaded, anxiety attacks, a need to feel in complete control. You’re not alone, Tony, but you keep choosing to be. You don’t need to see a shrink, not really. It’s advisable, but not necessary. What you do need is support. And I’ve been there. I am there. Right beside you and on the other side of this wall you keep up around yourself. I don’t want to fix you. Are you kidding me? Alex would murder me. I want to help. I want to show you that it doesn’t have to be like this all the time. I want to be a good friend to both you and Alex.”

 

“And what if I don’t want the help?”

 

“Then you don’t want it,” she said irritably, sliding off the stool and heading for the door. “But I’ve said my peace on it and I made an effort and no one can ever say I didn’t try.”

 

She reached for the door, not even bothering to look at him to make sure anything sank in. She was too angry and too frustrated with him and his stubbornness to care right now. It was probably a waste of time and breath, better spent on making sure Alex was actually as fine as she said she was.

 

“Thank you.”

 

She stopped, the shock of hearing him, of all people, utter those words short-circuiting her brain. She turned to look at him and found that those big brown eyes of his were wide with emotion she couldn’t read, but far warmer. She smiled a little and nodded, relieved to have gotten through to him, even just a little. “No problem.”

 

“Does it actually get better?”

 

“I like to think it does,” she answered softly. “It took ten years to be able to go months without nightmares. But I was alone. And I would say it’s easier now than it was then, though there are still bad days.”

 

Tony simply nodded and resumed his work. He looked exhausted, worn, and far older than his years in that moment. She glanced down at the apple in her hand and sighed, moving back towards the bench. She set it down in front of him and offered a small little smile when he glanced up at her.

 

“You need this more than me,” she said.

 

He gave her a crooked smile and she turned and exited his workspace, opting for another attempt at sleep. She knew he wasn’t going to come around any time soon after that talk. But the seed was planted and maybe the next they crossed midnight paths, it will have taken root. And then, just maybe, Tony Stark could begin to heal and finally get some sleep.

 


End file.
